


The Mafia AU Nobody Asked For (Rewriting)

by IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction



Series: Bri Shut Up [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Are Twins, Feral Derek, Isaac Lahey is a Hale, M/M, Mafia AU, Oblivious Stiles, Peter Hale Ships Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale is Jackson Whittemore's Parent, Possessive Derek, Probably on Sundays, and usually Stiles but he kills a bitch a few times at some point so, besides children, cause they're either in their family's mafia or they're mercenaries, every Hale ships it, everybody - Freeform, everybody has issues, everybody is sassy, isaac is the only pure one, kinda dark at points, updated once a week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:30:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction/pseuds/IdSellMySoulForRecentlyUpdatedFanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles arrives at his new home in Beacon Hills, he's barely able to babble his way to the room picked for him before something starts to fuck with his flight or fight responses to basic shit. It doesn't take long for him to discover the even darker parts of the already suspicious town after he befriends the single person Scott told him to haul ass away from.<br/>~<br/>We rewriting this bitch. Chapters are gonna disappear so if people want me to put what's already written somewhere else I will</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mafia AU Nobody Asked For (Rewriting)

Stiles met Scott McCall three years ago when Danny was kind enough - unconscious enough - to let Stiles log onto - hack into - his WoW account. The bulky Worgen warrior had been wandering around aimlessly, searching for a quest item that absolutely refused to show itself both in game and on wikipedia. Stiles had swooped in, danced for a solid minute, and then promptly ran off when Scott joined in to find the same damned scroll. They’d played a couple more times together after that - Danny had nearly broken his laptop trying to murder Stiles with it when Scott had naively asked for “some kid with a weird name starting with an ‘S’” - but the comradery ended the second Danny got shipped off to a random city in California -- some lawyer family had adopted him promptly after being informed he was  _ amazing _ with computers. Mainly with the process of breaking into and stealing information from them. Poor bastard was one of the few recruited into something worse than the gangs that lurk around Sally’s House. He left Stiles with only random facts like how Scott’s favorite color was orange, that his favorite animal - ironically, for some reason - was a cat, and that if he had a super power he’d choose flight. As Stiles sits, staring up at the McCall house, he realizes that all of that information is useless.

It hadn’t been too hard for Scott to recognize Stiles in Sally’s House. The kid might’ve had no idea what he looked like - and Scott never seemed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer - but there can’t be a whole lot of unlucky bastards stuck in the Central Time Zone saddled with a name like Stiles’. On the other hand, though, Stiles’ collection of little facts hadn’t helped him much when a 6’ jock happily flung himself at the shorter teen with an elated “Bro!” It had taken Melissa - Scott obviously had given his mother the patience of a saint - introducing herself for everything to click into place. Shanking Scott had been a very near thing. Considering they were in Sally’s House, Stiles is pretty sure Melissa was aware of that.

The McCall house is nice -- two stories and an ugly green color and full of windows. One room’s light is on, and a warm yellow lights up the shuttered blinds. Melissa and Scott are on the porch talking to the worker who’d driven Stiles here: Maria? Mariah? Miley? Something like that. Stiles hadn’t really gotten a good look at Scott the first time he actually  _ saw _ him - which was only a couple months ago - but, staring at him now, Stiles decides that the dude is  _ way _ too in shape to have ever been playing WoW. The two teens make eye contact for a whole second before Stiles steadily drags his eyes back to the windshield. He continues to not leave the car. It’s a good 80 degrees and the modern marvel known as air conditioning has long been turned off and Stiles is pretty sure he’s gonna suffocate soon, but he’s kinda paralyzed by the fact that he has no idea who these people are or why he’s here. Scott seems nice enough, but the ability to heal through a few dungeons usually doesn’t become the deciding factor in whether or not a mom adopts some kid. Scott is his brother now, and it’s nice to finally live somewhere that Stiles hopefully won’t be stabbed - again - while sleeping, but for some reason the hair on Stiles’ arms raised whenever Scott tripped too close to him back in Arkansas. By now, most of Stiles’ self preservation instincts have left with the kids and the dog, but that’s a pretty clear indicator that something is decidedly  _ not  _ normal. His weird reactions compounded with the fact that the McCalls were at Sally’s House is more than enough to make Stiles suspicious. That place is full of future gang members and potential - or already successful - drug dealers. Stiles never really figured out where he landed on that spectrum.

Stiles jumps a good foot when there’s a sudden knocking on his window. M-something is standing there with a clearly strained smile plastered onto her face. Stiles lets her stew for a couple seconds before he huffs, grabs his bags from under his feet, and acts like he’s not seriously considering fleeing into the woods. Trees surround the whole McCall house; it wouldn’t be very difficult. Trees surround the whole neighborhood, actually. Possibly - definitely - the whole city. Stiles had decided that Beacon Hills has too many trees half an hour past the pristine welcoming sign -- graffiti covered the back. That was two hours before he found the first pair of golden arches and signs of civilization. Hidden amongst more trees. This place is fucking ridiculous, is what Stiles is getting at. M - Stiles is just going to stick to nicknames at this point. Nicknames are good. If he didn’t have a nickname, somebody would start choking trying to get his attention - has an iron grip on his arm as she drags Stiles to stand in front of the McCall duo. Melissa is a nice woman. A nurse. Her dark curls are pulled back into a tight bun, and she’s wearing scrubs. Melissa McCall is a  _ very  _ nice woman who’s going to ditch Stiles with her - frankly intimidating - son in about ten minutes.

“Hey Stiles.” Scott grins. This close, Stiles can see that his jaw is actually a bit crooked. Stiles nods slowly.

“Hey, dude. Hi Melissa.”

“Hello, Stiles. Thank you for picking him up, Mary.” Melissa turns to the worker, and moves to the side as Scott yanks Stiles into the living room. It’s.. nice. The couches are covered in pillows and look soft.

“You’re room’s upstairs, next to mine. You gotta use the bathroom at the end of the hall, though. Mom and I have ones attached to our rooms. C’mon.” Scott continues to drag Stiles up a flight of wooden stairs - Stiles is definitely gonna fall down these at some point - and into a long hallway. It’s tan paint matches the rest of the house, and there’s a smattering of paintings on the wall opposite of most of the doors. Scott takes him to the second door and nudges it open with his hip, throwing his open hand out dramatically. Stiles knew he liked him for a reason. “This is my room.” It very much looks like Scott’s room.

There’s about four carpets strewn out over the wooden floor, and two camo bean bags stick out against the bright red color. Scott has an unnecessary amount of shelves, and it looks like he’s just thrown random books and collectables onto them in an attempt to keep Melissa from taking them down. There’s at least three pictures or posters on every wall. This kid is ridiculous. There’s even a basketball hoop on the door. “I have an xbox in here if you ever wanna play.” Stiles doesn’t have the heart to tell Scott he’s more of a playstation guy as the larger teen drags him down a door before opening it and busting into the room. He releases Stiles’ wrist to throw his arms out even more dramatically than before. “And this is your room.” Contrasting the rest of the house, Stiles’ room is painted a dark blue. There’s two corkboards opposite of each other, and his bed has a plain blue plaid comforter. Stiles tosses his bags onto the bed and twirls around the room. There’s a desk in the corner, glass and decently sized, and the lamp next to it is silver and shiny. That’s not what draws his attention though.

“That was probably way too expensive.” Stiles says, pointing at the laptop sitting on the table. Scott shrugs.

“We’re not taking it back.” He points out. Bastard. Stiles makes a face, and Scott pats him on the shoulder a few times before he starts backing out of the room.

“Your closet’s a walk-in, and the bathroom is the last door in the hall. I’ll let you get all,” Scott just waves his hands around vaguely, “ya know? If you need any help, let me know. I’m gonna go order pizza or something. You aren’t allergic or anything, are you?” Stiles shakes his head, and Scott smiles. The thing is a good 400 watts.

“I like supreme.” Stiles says awkwardly, and Scott nods.

“Cool. I’ll order soda and stuff too. Make yourself comfortable.” And he’s gone. Stiles turns around the room, scratching awkwardly at his jaw. His hair is standing straight on edge, and he rubs at the goosebumps before throwing a look at the open door. Scott moves pretty goddamn silently for a dude his size. Letting out a deep breath through his nose, Stiles wanders over to his bed, staring at this bags before he decides to just shove them off so he can throw himself onto the bed. It’s soft. Stiles isn’t sure how to feel about that --  too used to hard mattresses and paper thin pillows. It’s half an hour before Scott appears in the doorway, his eyebrows raising slowly as he takes in Stiles’ strewn bags and his face-down position.

“Hungry?”

“Always.” Stiles grumbles into his pillow. Scott stands there until Stiles drags himself off the bed and towards the door. Scott smiles at him.

“Comfy?” Stiles is half asleep, so all he’s really able to do is mumble something that sounds more Polish than English as he does his best not to slip down the stairs. “Aren’t you hot?” Scott asks as he walks past were Stiles stopped when greeted with three pizzas, garlic sticks, brownies, and two three-liter bottles of soda. Stiles glances down at his oversized hoodie and shrugs.

“Not really?” He says as he flings himself onto one of the squishy couches, landing haphazardly on about three pillows as he grabs the box with the supreme pizza. “You’re eating all of that?” He motions to the two pizzas, and Scott nods. Stiles lets out a low whistle, raising both brows.

“Fast metabolism.” Scott explains around a mouthful of pizza, rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles narrows his eyes until Scott’s dark eyes meets his lighter pair. “Working out, ya know? My metabolism was pretty high already, but it went through the roof when I hit fifteen. Working out probably doesn’t help with that.” Stiles nods, turning his attention to the TV when some especially loud explosion sounds. There’s a shiny metal bat next to the door and a gun shittily hidden beneath Scott’s shirt. Stiles wonders how long it’ll take Scott to slip up or just tell him about why, exactly, Beacon Hills is so isolated. It’s 2 AM when Melissa gets home. Scott doesn’t say anything, and Melissa doesn’t say anything outright, but Stiles knows that Melissa knows that he’s probably already picked up on Beacon Hills’ weird vibes even without leaving the house. There’s a howl deep in the woods, and Melissa glances at Stiles. She doesn’t give him an explanation, even though there should be no wolves in California. Nothing’s stated outright, but Stiles gets a strong warning about the kids in woods and the night and the  _ Hales _ . It’s not much, but it’s enough. Stiles has always been able to identify and put up with the morally grey and dark. He assumes that’s what the McCalls wanted when they decided to show up at Sally’s House. Figures, that he’s ended up being one of the unlucky bastards stuck into something worse than some lurking gang.


End file.
